Inflate Club, Part 3

Over the next week, Felix found himself lying on his bed at night, with the image of Imogen, fully inflated and helpless, occupying his thoughts. Each time, the image was destroyed by that freakish Dreda, kicking Imogen until she burst, giving her no chance to defend herself. Imogen had been so helpless, so vulnerable, so powerless--and Dreda had been so cruel, so merciless, so totally in control...

And, as it had every day that week, the thought gave him an erection, which his right hand quickly dealt with. He felt guilty getting off on Imogen’s humiliating demise, but that guilt only seemed to stimulate his orgasm.

On this particular night, though, he didn’t climax immediately. The scene played out as usual, with Imogen looking full, tight, and inflated like a round pinkish balloon. Dreda then walked out on stage with her revealing shorts and high heels. She lifted her heel to drive a kick into the balloon--but the face on the balloon was no longer Imogen. It was Felix.

He watched himself burst in his mind, and then pictured the smiling, mocking, victorious face of Dreda, with all her grotesque facial features...and her flabby thighs...and her gnarly hair...!

And then he ejaculated, holding Dreda’s face on his mental “pause” button as he let out a series of guttural groans and spunked on his stomach, the bedsheets, and the walls.

As he lay panting, his heartbeat slowly returned to normal, though his skin was still flushed. He did not just cum because of that ugly, monstrous chick, he told himself. He is not attracted to her! She’s hideous!

He looked down at the friend in his right palm. “Let’s keep this between the two of us,” he told it. Then he closed his eyes, picturing the back of Dreda’s shorts for the better part of an hour, until the incident had to be repeated.

Felix’s duel with Dreda was supposed to be the climax of the evening, so he had to sit and watch as woman after woman popped in front of him in the preceding duels. And he tried to ignore Dreda, sitting in the bleachers only a few rows away, who occasionally turned in her seat to shout over at Felix: “Hey, Felix! Are you ready to POP?!” or “Hey, Felix, can’t wait until you burst!” And then she’d flip him the middle finger.

Felix pretended to ignore her, just as much as he tried to ignore his third erection that night. He just continued to watch the other competitions, all of which he had placed wagers on--and all of which he had won, prompting the cashier to ask where she should send the money, as it would be going to his next of kin by the end of the night.

Felix felt nervous energy building up inside of him as the penultimate match began between a tall blonde named Tess and a short brunette named Yvonne. Felix had put his money on Tess, which turned out to be fortuitous, as it did not take long for Yvonne to blow up to twice Tess’s size. Felix’s thoughts were so occupied that he hardly registered the scene in front of him until Yvonne finally burst.

And then it was time.

As the cleanup crew left the ring, Felix entered, enduring a barrage of catcalls and jeers. Moments later, Dreda walked out to a standing ovation and cheers of “Dreda! Dreda! Dreda!” She waved and pranced around for the crowd, wearing her familiar white tank top and shorts. Felix just waited, letting her have her moment.

Finally Dreda stepped up to him, patting him condescendingly on his chest, as if giving a dog a pat. “I’m going to blow you up niiiiiiiice and biiiiiiig,” she told him lustfully, drawing out the words. “And then, when you’re juuuuust about to burst, I’ll stop for a moment, let you catch up a little, you know, to give you some false hope. But I can get reeeealy big,”--her eyes widened as she said “really”--“so there’s no danger of you popping me. I’ll let you puff your little heart out, and then? Then I’m going to take one, deeeeep breath, and blooooow you up and up and up, and finally--!” She sang it out: “POP!” She threw up her arms for effect. “The look on your face before you burst will be priceless. I’ll enjoy every second of it. And when you explode, I’m just going to laaaaaaugh and laaaaaaugh!” She giggled, as if previewing her victory mirth.

“If you blow this much hot air during the match,” said Felix, “you just may be right.”

Dreda just smiled back at him, but as she turned back to her station, her smirk faded ever so slightly. For a guy who was just about to explode, he seemed quite reserved. She put the thought out of her mind as she and Felix hooked themselves up to the aero-accelerator.

The crowd’s chanting faded into murmurs as the buxom referee came out on stage. All the wagers had been placed: There were no bets on Felix, because no one wanted to take the bet that Dreda would actually pop. Instead, the bets were on how long Felix would last. The odds were 3-to-1 that he would pop within five minutes.

Dreda’s eyes bore into Felix as they stood with the tubes in their mouths and the wires in their bellies. She held the tube firmly in her teeth as her oversized mouth turned up into a wide smile. Felix decided that, along with all her other flaws, her smile showed way too much gum.

The buxom referee raised her arm, counted down from five, and threw her arm back down with a “GO!”

Felix blew into the tube and watched with satisfaction as Dreda’s belly suddenly bloated outward. He noticed that she hadn’t blown yet--she was giving him a head start, thinking him totally outclassed. But he didn’t let her psyche him. He just blew again, watching her body become puffy--or puffier, as the case may be--and her arms and legs became thick with air.

Dreda, smiling with her eyes if not with her mouth, finally blew back. Felix allowed himself to stop blowing long enough to enjoy feeling his chest expand outward--not that he enjoyed being inflated by an ugly chick, of course; but he had to admit that it was still a thrill to be a human balloon.

He gave only marginal resistance as she blew again and again, so that he could concentrate on the sensations involved with inflating. He used his puffy arms to feel his round midsection, savoring the expansion, running his hands over his wonderfully distended flesh. He paused to drink in his pleasure, again allowing Dreda’s warm breath, aided by the aero-accelerator, to pump him up even more. He closed his eyes in brief ecstasy, his whole body trembling with the anticipation of being bigger. Of being nothing but a balloon.

“Pop him, Dreda!” he heard a voice shriek from the audience. He snapped out of his reverie. Okay, he thought. There’ll be time later to enjoy being inflated. Now it’s time to avenge Imogen and pop this bitch.

He inhaled deeply, setting aside for a moment the love of his own inflation, and blew hard into the tube. He watched as Dreda, taken by surprise by the sudden forcefulness of the counter-attack, doubled in size, her arms and legs shrinking as they merged with her round, ball-like body. Felix allowed himself a smile of his own, looking straight into Dreda’s wide eyes. Dreda’s own trademarked smile did not come so easily from this point.

He blew again, watching her grow with exponential force. She blew back, her cheeks reddening and puffed out from the strain. Yet for all her efforts, Felix had managed to blow Dreda noticeably larger than she had blown him. She had to be at least a yard wider in circumference.

The crowd’s chanting had given way to silence. This was not going to be the quick match that they had envisioned.

As the two contestants puffed and puffed, many more bet-holders began to get antsy. Felix was blowing up nice and big, there was no doubt about it: He was now completely ball-shaped and would fill a one-car garage. But at the five minute mark, Dreda was almost twice that, about the size of a small house. Her smirk was totally absent now, her wide eyes staring disbelievingly at her opponent as she surged to greater and greater sizes.

Felix met her gaze, blowing casually into the tube and watching her inflate and inflate. Behind his eyes was a secret, one that Dreda hadn’t anticipated: The other night, when the building was empty of spectators, Felix had come in and sabotaged the aero-accelerator.

At first, he had considered plugging up her tube with cotton, but that would be too obvious, and he would be immediately suspected. Instead, he chose a balloon’s worst enemy: a pin. With a tiny, virtually unnoticeable pinprick in Dreda’s hose, Felix had turned the undisputed champion into the inevitable loser.

Of course, every other woman who chose that side of the aero-accelerator--Yvonne, for example--had been at an unfair advantage and had burst. But you know what they say about omelettes. Besides, he had just made a small fortune on wagers.

One thing he learned about these matches: Once someone took the lead, it was virtually impossible to catch up again, unless the frontrunner did something stupid, as when Maura dropped her hose, something Felix had no intention of doing. So he settled back for a moment to just relish his inflation, reveling in his balloon state. And he could also enjoy watching Dreda consistently outpace him in growth. Her white body was so big--so BIG! Her body was just a huge, beautiful, spherical shape--

Did he say “beautiful”? Well, he supposed most women looked good as balloons. Not Dreda, of course--he wasn’t attracted to her. Still, he did admire the way she inflated, and she looked as good as any balloon he’d seen. And he knew that she would burst just as fabulously. He looked right at her terrified eyes, knowing that she was still dealing with the fact that this amateur was going to cause her to burst.

Yes, Dreda was going to pop. Burst like an overinflated balloon and be gone from this planet forever. No more of her tight shorts on her oversized ass. No more of that giant mouth that liked to taunt him so much. No more of those chunky thighs or oversized ears. No more of her boasting of how big she could get, of how great she was, of how she planned to pop him, because she was the best, she was the greatest...

And then, almost without thinking about it, Felix stopped blowing.

It wasn’t immediate: He first slowed his breathing pace ever so slightly, so that even the most observant spectator wouldn’t suspect anything. His breaths came shorter and were spaced farther apart. Dreda still grew, but at a much slower pace, until finally she inflated at about the rate of Felix.

And then, for a brief moment, Felix stopped blowing altogether.

Dreda, however, did not stop for a moment. She puffed heartily, her face still red and puffy, perhaps glistening with a little sweat, but blow she did. The crowd gasped as Felix, who had been much smaller than Dreda, was now her equal in size, each about the size of a hot-air balloon.

And then Felix got even bigger, and the audience suddenly broke the silence and roared its approval.

The sudden cheers finally penetrated Felix’s inner thoughts: WHAT AM I DOING?!

At once, Felix set to blowing again, but it was too late: Dreda was now ahead, and it would be impossible, even with her defective tube, to catch up. Felix puffed and puffed, but he felt himself ever approaching his limits with every breath Dreda dealt out.

The crowd, sensing the outcome, began its chanting: “Pop. Pop. Pop! Pop! POP! POP! POP! POP!” Their hands clapped; their feet stomped. The corners of Dreda’s mouth again drifted upward in a wide smile.

She puffed again, and Felix surged larger, the impact of the air causing him to wobble with the strain. His body squeaked like a balloon, as if pleading for no more air. His head had begun to fill with air, his body having reached its fill.

“POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!”

Dreda scanned the crowd, drinking in the accolades before looking back at the wide eyes of Felix. She stopped blowing momentarily, perhaps to give him a false sense of hope. But for Felix, there was none: He had stopped blowing several moments ago, knowing that it would not change the outcome.

Did he have any regrets? Even he wasn’t sure, as he sat there, gently wobbling as he waited for her to finish it. He chose to spend the last moment of his life just enjoying being a balloon.

And he looked forward to being popped by the most beautiful woman he ever knew. If he didn’t still have the tube in his mouth, he would have shouted it to the world: Dreda, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you and I want to burst for you!

It was a long, pregnant pause. And then Dreda took a deep breath. And she blew.

It was only a second after she blew when...

BOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!

The crowd rose to their feet, chanting, “Dreda! Dreda! Dreda! Dreda! Dreda!”

Dreda smiled as pieces of Felix drifted to the floor. “Told you I was gonna win,” she said to the empty space. And then, once again the undisputed inflation champion, she laughed the night away.